October Chill
by NeverMore005
Summary: Very dark. Very morbid. Just in time for Halloween. Mwahahaha
1. Chapter One

A/N:

This story isn't anything like my other ones—girl goes through tragedy, girl falls in love, girl gets hurt, everyone dies. In fact, this one has nothing to do with love at all…but a lot to do with death. So be prepared for the most morbid story I've ever written, and if you're squeamish, it would be wise of you to close this window right away.

Forever Yours,

Nevermore

OCTOBER CHILL

Chapter One:

Raven

"_Go on, boy! Fetch the stick! Go get it!"_

_Raven surveyed the scene with little interest as the puppy watched the stick fall pointlessly to the ground, then wagged its tail uncertainly. A little girl with long, white-blonde pigtails stomped her Mary-Jane's angrily, her big, blue eyes narrowing in a strangely menacing glare. _

"_You stupid dog! You never do ANYTHING right!" she shouted, her fists clenching as she slumped down to the ground. "I hate you," she added, practically spitting her words. The puppy wagged its tail again, its ears perking up when it saw the little girl stoop to his height; and eagerly bounded towards her to cover her with kisses. Suddenly, the dog let out a high-pitched 'Yipe!' as it was thrown as far across the lawn as the little girl could muster, landing heavily on its side before it scrambled to its feet. "Go away!" the girl hissed, making the poor creature's ears droop. It let out a pitiful whine and she threw a stone at it, smacking it square in the head and making it yelp in pain. "I don't want you anymore! You're a bad, bad dog!" she screamed._

_Raven couldn't help feeling her stomach churn as the puppy timidly limped towards the little girl, its tail still wagging hopefully. The girl scowled at it as it approached her, and her face suddenly softened into an eerie, happy smile. She held out a hand to the dog, who shrank back in timid fright, but then hesitated and continued to creep towards her. She scratched it behind the ears and it reluctantly licked her palm, its tail wagging slightly. _

"_Good boy," she crooned, kissing it on the forehead and rubbing the dog's belly when it flopped over. "Who's a good boy? Does the good boy want a treat? Yes he does! Come on, Biscuit! Does you want a cookie?" She stood up and the dog eagerly followed her inside, Raven following after a moment's hesitation. _

_Once inside the kitchen, the girl didn't go to the pantry like Raven suspected. Instead, she skipped cheerfully to the drawer beside the breadbox, pulling it open and rooting through its contents before finding the desired item._

_A very broad, very sharp cleaver._

_The puppy waited at her feet, tail wagging, eyes bright with a loving anticipation. When she turned back to it, it let out a happy little yap and sat down in front of her, its posture pleading for a treat or attention. The little girl smiled, her eyes glazed slightly, and raised the butchering tool high in the air…_

_Then buried it in the dog's skull…_

A cry escaped Raven's lips and she awoke, clammy with a cold sweat, eyes wide open. Slowly, she sat up, her gaze flickering to the front of her room as the thud of uneven footsteps pattered to her door. She must have woken someone up.

"Raven?" she heard Robin call, confirming her suspicions, his voice wary, but also very tired. "Raven, are you okay?" Raven opened her mouth, but no sound came out. "Raven?" She swallowed before chancing another attempt at talking, and was relieved to hear the words cutting through the ominous silence.

"I'm fine," she assured him, her expression betraying the fact that she was anything but fine. "Just a bad dream." She heard Robin yawn.

"Alright," he replied, a strain in his tone as he stretched. "You going to be okay?" he added curiously.

"Of course I'll be okay," she answered, wincing as she heard the snap in her voice. She hadn't meant to sound so scornful. "I told you, it was just a dream." There was silence for a moment, and when Robin spoke again, he sounded a little hurt.

"I'm sorry, Raven—I'm just worried for you." Raven immediately wanted to slap herself—Robin had a way of giving anyone a guilt trip just by blatantly stating the truth. "I mean, the last few times you had nightmares…you remember, right?"

"I remember," she agreed, flopping back into bed. "But this doesn't mean anything. It was…just a dream." And, even as the words left her mouth, she couldn't help but feel that she was trying to make herself believe it.

"Okay. I'm here if you want to talk."

"I know."

"Well…goodnight."

His footsteps echoed through the hallways as he walked away, and Raven was left alone in the dark.

"It was just a dream," she murmured, turning to her side and holding her pillow tightly.

But deep down inside, she knew it wasn't.

The little girl she had 'seen' earlier had been haunting her dreams for the past three days, the morbidity of her stature increasing with each passing night. Last night, the girl was four years old and playing with a dead bird, opening and closing its wings before wrenching them off and watching in fascination as the maggots clung to the bone even after it had been ripped out of its socket. The girl's mother had screamed in horror and disgust as she watched her daughter stroke the bird's lifeless head and hold the dead animal to her chest as any other child would a doll, then swatted the carcass out of the girl's arms and pulled her back inside.

The night before, the little girl was six and watching a mouse squirm noisily as it attempted to escape the iron clamp of a mouse trap that had slammed on its tail. Slowly, she lifted the clamp and held it up, gazing intently at it as it wriggled free and sniffed around the wooden base of the trap. She waited until it had found the bait that had tipped the spring, then grinned and released the lever so it snapped down on the mouse's neck.

Raven didn't know the girl. She had never seen her before in her life.

"Hellooooo," Beast Boy said loudly, interrupting Raven in mid-thought. "Earth to Raven!" Raven flinched and glared at him, casually upending his cereal over his head with a single blink of her eyes. "Agh! What was that for?" he shrieked, rubbing milk and Cap'n Crunch away from his eyes.

"I had a rough night," Raven replied evenly, closing her violet eyes and taking a long sip of her tea. "That made me feel a little better. And, you're annoying me." Beast Boy peered at her from underneath his cereal bowl, tipping it upwards so his face was exposed.

"A little better?" he shot back incredulously. "What's it going to take to make you feel _a lot_ better? Aren't I humiliated enough?" Raven glanced pointedly at the chair he was sitting in and smiled slightly as it jerked out from underneath him, sending him sprawling to the floor and out of sight.

"I set myself up for that one," his voice declared, slightly muffled. "You're feeling better now…right?" The chair, which was levitating serenely in midair after dislodging its occupant, suddenly dropped down onto the floor where Beast Boy had just fallen, followed closely by his cereal bowl, spoon, and orange juice.

"I am now," Raven admitted, smiling absentmindedly and stirring her tea in a cheerful sort of way. Beast Boy grumbled and stood, shaking his sopping wet torso and glaring at her. "And, for the record, I think you set yourself up for that one, too."

"Well, you're a little more _sadistic_ than usual today," he snapped, looking aggravated, wet, and miserable. Raven glanced up at him, her gaze clearly intoning that he should drop it.

"Maybe," she replied evenly. Then, after a moment's thought…"Glorbag," she added, using a particularly tasteful insult she had heard Starfire use.

"I bet you don't even know what that means!" he taunted.

"I don't. Go prance around with your magical animal friends, Beast Breath." Her gaze wandered towards the fallen chair and woebegone cereal bowl in a suggestive sort of way and then glanced back at him. "Or I'll find more things to drop on you."

Beast Boy scowled at her, then stomped away. Suddenly, she saw him pause in the doorway.

"Nimblethorp!" he called accusingly, immediately dashing down the hallway and out of reach of the sorceress's wrath. She ignored him, but the usage of Tamaranian insults had attracted another Titan—Starfire herself.

"You should not say such hurtful things," she began, her large, limpid green eyes wide with concern, but Raven cut her off with a look. "Mean words…mean words will not solve your problems?" she added uncertainly. Raven's eyes narrowed.

"Don't start with me today." Her gaze returned to the newspaper and Starfire opened and closed her mouth several times, each time thinking better of her comment and staying silent.

"Perhaps if I…?" she started hopefully, but she never got any further than that. The door slammed in her face, and Raven looked very pleased with herself.

Robin sat down across from her at the dining table, looking from one side of the room to the other.

"Wow. It got quiet fast," he commented. Raven glared at him over her teacup.

"Don't you start with me either," she pointed out darkly.

"I wasn't going to."

"Good."

"But you _have_ been acting strange lately," Robin admitted, giving her a weak glance of conformation. "You know. More moody…you're just not yourself."

"What makes you say that?" Raven inquired calmly, her thoughts immediately traveling to the little girl, slowly pulling the wings off of a dead bird. Robin raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"You know what I'm talking about," he continued slowly. "It doesn't take a genius to know that you're upset about something."

"That's funny," Raven said bitterly, scowling at the newspaper and refusing to look at him. "I thought you only noticed I was upset if I filled the tower with monsters, shut myself in my room for three weeks with a cursed _book,_ or sprouted extra eyes and broke out in glowing red runes." Robin's eyes narrowed.

"That's not true, Raven, and you know it."

"You're right. You also tend to figure things out pretty fast when I blow up Beast Boy's breakfast." Robin let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head.

"You really want this to be difficult, don't you?" he said tiredly. Raven drained the rest of her tea and glowered fiercely at the front page article about bicycle helmet hazards. "You keep trying to pick a fight, but I just want to know what's wrong."

"It's nothing I can't handle," Raven snapped, instinctively lifting her teacup to her lips before she realized it was empty.

"I've heard that one before," Robin retorted darkly.

"Now who's trying to pick a fight?" He let out a groan of frustration and closed his eyes, tilting his head so he was facing the ceiling.

"_Raven,"_ he finally moaned, now positively begging. "Come on…"

"I'll be fine. Thanks for caring," Raven said firmly. "Go away." Robin folded his arms stubbornly and glared fixedly at her, refusing to move an inch.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong," he challenged. Raven raised an eyebrow and black tendrils of energy swarmed around her, letting her melt into the floor and appear in her room. Down the hallway she could faintly hear Robin swear, and, rolling her eyes, she fell heavily onto her bed. Not surprisingly, a loud knocking sounded on her door only seconds later, and she ignored it; carefully studying her bookshelves and selecting a particularly ancient Latin novel to drown him out.

She would deal with it on her own. It wasn't their problem.

As far as she knew, they didn't have creepy, psychotic little girls terrorizing them in their dreams. Beast Boy didn't watch a kid dissect a bird with her bare hands. Cyborg wasn't plagued endlessly by the thought of her sweet, innocent little smile as she held a hatchet-sized cleaver over her head.

And Starfire, the naïve animal-lover, certainly wasn't dreaming about slaughtered puppy dogs. Raven would know if she was, because the effect it would have on Starfire would be _insane._

A noise like a fire alarm suddenly filled the tower and cut her off, and, at the same time, the stone on her cloak began to glow red. Something was wrong.

"What is it?" Raven demanded, her robes billowing behind her as she turned the corner to the living room. Beast Boy rewarded her entrance with a reproachful look as he pointedly pulled off a piece of sticky cereal that was still clinging to his suit, and she ignored him. Robin, who also looked a little put-out, swiveled away from the computer monitor to glance momentarily at her.

"Trouble," he said swiftly, his fingers flying across the keyboard and making the screen zoom in on the city map. "There's been an outbreak of murders all around this quadrant of the city."

"Can't the police handle that?" Cyborg put in, his eyes narrowing as he examined the victims' profiles. Beast Boy shrugged and nodded, silently agreeing with him. "I mean, it's just a matter of printing the bodies." Robin shook his head, still staring unblinkingly at the screen.

"That's just it. There _are_ no fingerprints." Raven frowned and watched the monitor closely from half-lidded eyes. "It's easy to determine the cause of death, but as far as suspects go, nobody can find anything," he continued. Starfire looked troubled.

"But how are we to stop the killer if there are no more clues?" she asked timidly.

"She's right," Beast Boy agreed, peeking over Robin's chair to look at the victims' profiles. "These guys are already _dead._ The police have already taken everything in for 'evidence'. I'd bet you _anything_ these people's families already went through with a funeral and everything, and the morgue probably dug through their guts for us! What are we supposed to do? Wait for this psycho to kill someone else and analyze _them!"_

"Cyborg's sensors are way more accurate than anything at the police station, or the morgue," Robin answered, turning around completely to face his comrades. "All we need are the bodies, and we can run a base-analysis to look for anything out of the ordinary." Cyborg's human eye twitched in disgust.

"You mean I'm going to have to open up a dead person?" he asked weakly.

"Get over it. It's for the safety of the people."

"Then why can't _they_ stick their hands inside dead people!"

As they bickered, Raven opened her mouth to silence them, but then, she saw the pictures on the screen.

Her stomach lurched sickeningly, and she leaned in closer despite herself. On the screen was a man, lying spread-eagle on the cement. Blood was pooling from both his arms, which were detached from his shoulders, and sprinkled on the pavement were several soft, lustrous, black…

_Feathers._

The revolting ripping noise of a bird's wings tearing from its sockets echoed in her head, and she heard a demented, sickly sweet giggle from the confines of her mind. In the next picture, a woman was nailed by her palms to the plaster wall, a cleaver buried in her forehead.

"_Does Biscuit want a cookie?"_

Raven shivered and looked away, focusing instead on the next picture and immediately wishing she hadn't. Blood was seeping through a young man's mouth, and his limbs were bent at awkward angles…bent in a way that no human body should be able to bend. One of his legs was twisted into a morbid tangle, the heel of that foot pressed against the man's elbow. One of his arms was malformed in such a bizarre manner that bones were jutting out from his skin. Each finger was bent backwards. Underneath him, gore and dark blood was spreading, and she realized that his stomach had been squeezed open by some sort of pressure…like an overripe fruit.

She felt the bile rise in her throat when she saw the tool of murder—a huge, flat, sheet of heavy iron that had presumably 'fallen' while the man was at work at a construction area. It was a freak accident.

Raven winced when she remembered how helpless the mouse was, caught in his trap, and gave an involuntary jerk when she recalled the deafening _snap_ of the lever.

"Robin," she said quietly. Robin, who had just begun to utter a snappy retort to Cyborg's sarcastic inquiry, paused and turned to her.

"What is it?"

"When were these people murdered?" Robin frowned and swiveled back to face the computer screen, squinting fiercely at the analysis.

"The most recent was the woman," he answered, opening the woman's stats and making Raven sigh in relief as the morbid pictures were replaced by a smiling lady's profile. "Someone drove a cleaver through the crown of her skull…"

"R-right," Raven said quickly, cutting him off so he wouldn't continue to recite the bloody details of her death. Normally she wasn't this squeamish, but the bizarre similarities between her dreams and this new reality had robbed her of whatever endurance she had before. "But _when?"_ Again, Robin peered quizzically at the screen for a moment, scanning each paragraph intently.

"The woman was murdered last night," he finally confirmed. Raven choked a little, holding a hand firmly against her mouth, and Robin looked more than a little concerned on her behalf. "Raven," he said slowly, "do you know anything about all of this?" For what seemed like an eternity, she didn't say a word, still staring straight ahead. Then, after closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths, she seemed to return to her normal apathetic self.

"I…" she began weakly, and the rest of the team seemed to lean in a little closer in anticipation. The only sound to break the otherwise perfectly silent tower was the steady hum of the computer. Her eyes flickered to Robin, who was waiting for her response with a strange expression on his face, and she chewed nervously on her lip. "Robin…" she said, her voice unnaturally small and helpless.

"What is it?" he asked softly. Raven's eyes lowered, her dark, mysterious gaze veiled by long lashes.

"…I…I need to think," she murmured, giving the rest of them a fleeting, worried glance before she backed away, willing herself to be swallowed by the black shadows of her magic and disappearing from the scene.

She appeared instantly back in her room, sitting on her bed and closing her eyes meditatively.

"What's happening to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

A/N:

Wow…six pages. I really have far too much time on my hands.

Thanks for bearing with me, I suppose—it's been quite a while since I last updated any of my work. I've been re-reading The Unbreakable Vow, and have readily decided that a few changes need to be made, so I'll be updating that soon as well. I won't go so far as to add more chapters…but I _will_, how ever, be making some minor alterations to the chapters themselves, per se. I get OCD when I'm faced with the task of reading my old work, you see, and I start editing, and then eventually re-write the entire thing. The 'whirled around in a whirl of red hair' deal is getting on my nerves. That was very unintentional—it was honestly just a typo and not redundancy, I swear—and I'd appreciate it if all my friends IRL would shut up about it. If I hear one more crack about it, I think I'm going to go insane. That's saying something, because I'm already not necessarily the perfect model of sanity.

I think I'm just going to close this document now for the sake of my readers, as they are bound to be quite bored by now.

Nevermore

P.S: Thanks for recommending I've made my own account there and plan on posting a bit of my work on the site, so look me up every once in a while. My pen name is Catherine the Third.

P.S.S: Due to the feedback from TUVOGW, I've finally decided to delete the 'other' sex scene that everyone hated. Quite frankly, I wasn't too fond of it either, so it's not much of a loss. Thanks for your support.

P.S.S.S: This is directed to the anonymous person who posted their undying hatred for my story. If you would like to criticize my writing, I think I would take you much more seriously if you used proper capitalization, grammar, and punctuation. Also, if you'd care to explain _what_ you find so offensive, I might take the time to change it in the future. I am not attempting to be boastful, but my English scores have determined that I am _not, _in fact, that horrible a writer, so it must be one detail in particular. Thank you, and have a nice day.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

For the second time that day, Raven had locked herself in her room. There wasn't much doubt that it would be the last time, because she had already made it painfully clear that she wasn't going to come out anytime soon.

After many futile attempts to coax, bribe, and even _force_ Raven out from the confines of her bedroom, the Titans eventually all gave up and left her alone. At one point, Beast Boy even persuaded Starfire to sing her entire collection of Tamaranian folk songs, and assured Raven that until she came out, the alien girl was going to stand in front of her door and belt out every single note. Raven apparently seemed to develop a very solid immunity to the nerve-wracking screech that was Starfire's singing voice, and after ten minutes of loudly informing the sorceress that they could hold up for hours on end, the team was forced to abort their plan when Cyborg's steadfast determination was overtaken by a particularly violent seizure.

Soon after this, a very irritated, very unstable Cyborg threatened to kick the door down if she didn't come out by the count of ten. Raven did not seem to be altogether pleased by this concept, for the moment Cyborg began to utter the number 'nine', a large pile of outdated magazines suddenly flew into the air and chased the four Titans down the hallway and back into the living room. Beast Boy and Starfire both suffered a number of small paper cuts, Robin was beaten over the head several times by the July issue of _Newsweek_, and Cyborg had gunned down more than one copy of _People_ magazine with his sonic cannon, making the entire tower smell strongly of burning paper.

Raven let out an exasperated sigh and knit her fingers firmly into her hair, and was pleased when she didn't hear them return even after several minutes. Still fiercely toying with the idea of sending an army of rather sharp eating utensils after them as well, she exhaled deeply and was finally able to clear her mind, thus drifting away into the quiet stillness of meditation.

A feeling of gratification soon replaced her resilient anxiety, which had slowly begun to ebb away, and she was lulled into tranquil nothingness; a perfect void where she could abandon the weight of her conflicting emotions and just…think. She took in several more deep breaths, and finally forced her numbed mind to focus on the situation at hand.

The girl had visited her every night for three days. Now that she had let go of her fear, her doubt and her frantic denial, she could readily accept the fact that this was most definitely a phenomenon, and that it was happening very much on purpose. However, determining whether this was simply foresight on her behalf or a deliberate cry for help was a completely different and much more elusive process.

If it was a plea for help, or even a warning, then who exactly had sent it; the girl…or perhaps one of her victims? In fact, these messages could be from anyone—anyone at all. For all she knew, the Nufu overlord and a particularly diabolical rubber chicken could be tapping into her brain and sending her short clips from Beast Boy's large collection of bad horror movies.

Raven seriously doubted this, of course, but with the amount of information she had, it was entirely possible.

Wrenching her drifting thoughts away from rubber chickens and scheming blocks of whole-protein substances, she willed herself to center every ounce of her attention on searching for clues that the little girl may have given to her…but she was so tired, and could feel herself slowly, slowly drifting away from the hiatus that was meditation and falling into the chaotic, nonsensical world of slumber, dreams and nightmares...

"_Hello."_

_Raven's body whipped towards the source of the voice and immediately froze._

_It was the little girl._

"_Get out of my room," she demanded hoarsely, trying to chase the quiver from her voice. The girl laughed—a sugary, tinkling sound that made Raven's hair stand on end._

"_You're dreaming, silly," she giggled. "We're not in your room—you just fell asleep." Raven blinked in spite of herself and uncertainly studied their surroundings, feeling her insecurity grow considerably higher when she saw a large crack in the wall behind her bed. "But you don't want to wake up. Not yet," she added, her eyes still cast to the ground and never meeting Raven's gaze._

"…_Why not?" Raven retorted hesitantly, helplessly watching the crack in the plaster rapidly spiderweb upwards for a second and then stand still again. The little girl smiled a little, slowly easing herself onto the tips of her dress shoes and then leisurely lowering back down onto her the balls of her heels in a continuous, sickeningly naïve-looking sequence, all the time staring intently at the floor._

"_I don't know," she answered innocently. "Aren't you stuck?"_

" '_Stuck'?" Raven repeated, looking at her blankly and feeling her stomach churn as the crack in the wall shot up a little higher again. At this point, it had almost met the ceiling, and Raven tried her hardest to ignore it._

"_Don't you want a clue?" the girl continued, her voice so sweet and faultless that she could have been a normal child. Raven was suddenly reminded forcefully of The Exocist, and was half expecting the little girl's head to twist around in a full circle at any minute. "Don't you want to know more?"_

"_You're sick," Raven said shakily, taking an involuntary step backwards. The wall splintered slightly, emanating a loud creaking noise, and the crack continued to slither across the ceiling. "You're insane…" The girl didn't seem to acknowledge this last comment, because she suddenly looked at Raven with those too-blue eyes and smiled sweetly._

"_You're really pretty," she said out of nowhere. "Would you like to play dress-up with me?" Without warning, a slimy, murky substance oozed from the crack in the ceiling and splattered thickly on the little girl's shoulder, and as Raven watched, the flesh beneath it began to rot away before her very eyes. The girl either didn't notice or didn't care, because her gaze never wavered._

"_What do you want?" Raven begged frantically, positively shaking. "Just tell me what the hell you want and leave me alone!" Another large clump of the alien substance fell from the still-splintering ceiling and landed heavily on the girl's face, seeping slowly down to her chin. _

"_I want you to play dollies with me," she said softly, one eye melting away and oozing down her cheek as the liquid touched it. Flies had begun to buzz around her, swarming about her tiny body like they would gather around a corpse, and maggots were crawling desperately towards her on the floor from all directions. "Do you want to play with me?"_

"_NO!" Raven screamed frantically, crying out in horror and disgust as the entire right-side of the girl's face began to rot away. "Oh my god…oh my god…!"_

"_What is it, Raven?" the little girl pressed, her single eye widening hysterically. "Are you scared? Are you scared? Are you scared of me?"_

"_What the hell do you want!" Raven cried, pressing herself against the back wall and shrieking as the plaster behind her began to give way._

"_Sixty-five-eleven! Sixty-five-eleven!" the girl chanted maniacally, laughing shrilly as her lip began to shrivel away. "Ashes to ashes…ashes to ashes and dust to dust!" she giggled suddenly. "Silver to tarnish and iron to rust! Wake up, Raven! Wake up! Wake up!"_

"—wake up, Raven!" With a gasp, Raven opened her eyes and looked hurriedly around the room, her breathing quick and raspy. Robin was kneeling over her and appeared to be in the process of shaking her roughly…presumably to rouse her from her nightmarish slumber. When he saw her eyes flutter open, however, he exhaled deeply in relief and closed his eyes for a brief moment, looking as if he had run several miles. Starfire looked horrified, to say the very least—she was also at Raven's bedside with her hands at her mouth, her knuckles as white as her face with worry and tension. Beast Boy was at the foot of her bed, watching her with the strangest expression on his face, and Cyborg was observing the scene from her doorway. Apparently he had either been incredibly concerned on her behalf or was just true to his word, because the door was lying pointlessly on the floor, several feet away from its setting, and had obviously been slammed off its hinges.

"So you ended up kicking in the door after all," she said shakily, trying hard to lighten the mood. Nobody laughed—not even Beast Boy—and the laughter quickly died in her throat as Robin fixed her with his penetrating stare.

"Raven," he said slowly. "I'm going to ask you this one more time. What's going on?"

"I wish I knew," Raven answered honestly, looking up at him hopelessly. "I keep having these dreams, and…"

"So it _is_ the dreams, isn't it?" Robin interrupted softly, looking angry, disappointed, and frustrated all at once. The effect was enough to make Raven want to crawl under a large rock and hide there with all the _other_ slimy, insignificant creatures, and she looked away.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you just_ tell_ us?" Beast Boy demanded, his voice radiating anger and disgust. "We asked you enough times, didn't we? Why can't you just tell us the _truth?"_

"We've all been worried about you, Raven," Cyborg agreed solemnly, his tongue slipping over her name and pronouncing it _'Ray_-ven' like he always did—but this time, it wasn't sweet or reassuring. "Even _I_ asked you what was up a few days ago, but you did exactly what you always do; you blew us off and tried to handle it all by yourself, and you never let us help you until it's too late."

"I'll be fine," Raven lied, but Robin had obviously just reached the brink of his self-control.

"You were _screaming!"_ he shouted suddenly. Raven shrank back into her pillows in horror and surprise and he continued, now positively livid. "You were screaming for help! We thought you were being _attacked,_ Raven!" he practically spat, bringing his face closer to hers and glaring fixedly at her. "We thought someone was in your room, because you sounded _terrified._ I've never, ever heard you scream like that, and it scared me to death!"

"I'm sorry," Raven whispered, hating herself a little more each second, and overcome with self-revulsion when tears started to sting at her eyes.

"Damn it, Raven, we're you're friends!" Robin snarled, and she choked back a sob. "How _dare_ you scare us like that when we care so much about you! We're worried about you! We want to _help!_ Do you know how close you were to dying the last time this happened to you? Do you remember what _happened_ last time?" Raven nodded and he grabbed her shoulders hopelessly, still obviously frustrated, but desperate and pleading as well. "Then how could you do this to us?" he said softly, looking so pitiful that he didn't even look like himself anymore. What had happened to the vicious, determined leader she knew so well? "How could you be so selfish? How could you even put us through the _thought_ of losing you, Raven?"

"We _are_ veryconcerned for you, Raven," Starfire agreed weakly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "We simply wish to know what is…what is 'going on', yes?" Instinctively, Raven's gaze flickered to Beast Boy—who had been unnaturally quiet for a while—but he remained perfectly silent and refused to meet her eye.

"I told you already," she said quietly, biting her lip as hard as she could to keep it from trembling. The pain helped her focus, and the tears that were misting her vision almost seemed to dissipate as she did so. _Crying doesn't solve anything,_ she thought firmly, and swallowed hard. "I told you already," she repeated aloud. "I don't know." Robin looked at her pleadingly, silently begging for an explanation.

"Then tell us what you do know," he told her softly. Raven took in a deep breath and began to recite the events of the past week—the stories that would haunt their nightmares for years to come, just as they did hers.

A/N:

I know that this chapter was a bit shorter than the first, and that's mostly because I was aware that if I continued writing, the chapter wouldn't end for about twenty more pages. So, unfortunately, I had to stop here.

Five reviews _and_ five favorites on the first day! I'm incredibly flattered. It's depressing, though; I think that The Masked Commenter must have given up on me since I haven't posted in...((um…onetwothreefourfive…))…_seven_ months. I've completely let you down, dearest. I'm so ashamed. ;;

Thank you so, so much! I'm so glad that my morbidity hasn't deterred you from reading. But then again, a little blood and guts here and there is always enjoyable, right? Still…even_ I_ think the maggots were a little much, but that's probably because I detest those things. They're gross. Really, really gross. That part of the story in itself was enough to make me cringe, and I _wrote it._ Yuck. Maggots. Disgusting.

Love from;

Nevermore

P.S: I hate bugs.


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